


Crimson Oath (Extended)

by DimensionSlip



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, Illustrated, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Project SWORN (Fire Emblem), Unconventional Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimensionSlip/pseuds/DimensionSlip
Summary: "There was one time you pretended this was the Goddess Tower, and pledged to stay by my side."Flummoxed as he is, Felix colors at the reminder. "That was a long time ago."A time when things were easier for everyone, and a period when Felix can indulge in such fantastical ideas without worrying about how feasible or not they were.Dimitri seems to be fumbling with something, not seeming like he picked up on Felix's embarrassment. "I was wondering… if that still holds true."Felix gapes at Dimitri for a moment, unsure of where this line of questioning is leading. "Does it matter now?""It does."
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79
Collections: Project Sworn





	Crimson Oath (Extended)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this took forever, but here it is! An extended version of my piece for Project SWORN, including some additional introspection and extra scenes I felt like writing.
> 
> The wonderful art for this piece was done by Nu ([@jeleefishing on Twitter](https://twitter.com/jeleefishing)). Go check her out!

Lone Moon, Imperial Year 1185.

It's been a little over five years since the Church and the Kingdom started waging the war against the Empire. A war that they're losing, no matter how Felix looks at it. Even with the war being a worthy challenge suitable for his blade, he won't deny that his sword grows heavy with each swing, the weight of each life he takes a shroud upon his shoulders despite the outward joy he takes with the thrill of battle. Each herald of the unchanging tide of war has him pensive, wary of what news of loss comes their way next. Who is up next—Ingrid with her elite pegasus unit at Arianrhod? Sylvain, coordinating the defense of Gautier and Fraldarius against both the Empire and Sreng? Or…

It's not a thought he wishes to dwell on, yet he continues to lift his blade day after day, slaying as their supreme commander dictates. And the aforementioned stands with him this particular evening, having called him out to the roof of the tallest castle tower, taking him up a point that overlooks the whole of Fhirdiad. While it had stopped snowing a two days earlier, it remains cool nonetheless, a fact that the torches lighting the stairs leading to the roof could not fully offset when Felix passed by them earlier.

It's nothing Felix isn't unused to by any means, but the sight of Dimitri under the moonlight, looking more and more like the paintings of his father that hung in the hallways of the castles, has Felix's heart skipping an odd beat anyway, an occurrence that happens every now and then when he catches sight of Dimitri's regal profile. Felix attributes it to the uncanny resemblance to someone long dead, similar to the anxiety he gets when he catches his own reflection in the mirror, but admittedly, there are days when he sometimes wonders if it could be something else, another view he should not dare to consider in light of his position and the current state of war.

One such day—rather, night—happens to be right now.

Unmindful of Felix's thoughts, Dimitri lifts his eyes to the night sky, smiling. "The moon is beautiful tonight."

"Yeah, I can die happy," Felix says, dour as he gives it an unimpressed glance before settling across the dim expanse before them. Welcome as the break is from his thoughts, it's still far too strange a thing to say, something that sounds more like a distraction than anything that would lead to some sort of meaningful discussion that warrants calling him out here in the dead of night.

He can feel Dimitri's gaze on him, likely with furrowed brows. "You do not sound like it."

"Should I?" Felix asks, shooting Dimitri a glare, "I'll be setting out for Arianrhod tomorrow, where they're sure to strike next."

Tearing his eyes away from Felix, Dimitri hangs his head. "I know."

Oh no. "Chin up, and don't you dare apologize for it."

Felix can feel it coming. And sure, things as they stand right now are on the bleak side, with the frontlines being pushed further and further back as the Empire marches on, but it's not something that is Dimitri's fault, no matter how much he might blame himself for it.

The Empire simply is too strong as it is right now, especially with _that_ formidable professor on their side. It's a fact that Felix embraces, both awaits and dreads. Once he stations himself at Arianrhod, facing them and their sword is nigh inevitable, as with the fact that only one of them is going to walk out of that battle alive.

It's a grim thought, but as a swordsman that values finding opponents of equal or greater strength, Felix cannot help but look forward to it all the same.

Dimitri shakes his head. "Even so, there is much I ask of you."

Felix huffs and folds his arms. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to."

"Is… that so…?"

Dimitri sounds strangely shy when he says that, and it has Felix throwing him a funny look, wondering what's gotten into him. Felix thinks that Dimitri should know better than to question Felix's intent—and they have established that much in this odd sort of peace they've found with each other after Dimitri ascended the throne—so what in Fódlan has him regressing in this regard?

"Is there a problem?" Felix asks, his tone challenging as his narrowed gaze.

Dimitri hesitates for a moment, then sighs. "You once said you do not care about chivalry and the motions that come with it."

"Yes," Felix says, raising a brow. And it still holds true, for the record. "What about it?"

"Then what are you fighting for now?" Dimitri asks, brows knit.

The intensity of Dimitri's stare causes Felix to break eye contact, preferring the sight of the lonely landscape across.

"...Who knows."

But Felix does know, Dimitri _should_ know, and it's the only reason why he hesitates at all, and is remotely unhappy about the prospect of leaving tomorrow.

Silence falls over them as Felix refuses to elaborate out loud, mulling on that thought and the uncertain future before them. In the midst of it, he steals a glance at Dimitri, who looks like he's deep in thought about something as well. He follows Dimitri's gaze, falling upon the moon that hung over the night sky, stark against the darkness it illuminates alongside the stars that dot the sky.

"Say, Felix."

Dimitri exhales, the first to break the silence that hung over them.

"Remember how we used to climb up here all the time as children?"

"Yes," Felix says, knitting his brows as he wonders where Dimitri is going with this line of thought. "Why?"

Dimitri casts his gaze downwards, towards his lightly balled fist. "There was one time you pretended this was the Goddess Tower, and pledged to stay by my side."

Flummoxed as he is, Felix colors at the reminder. "That was a long time ago."

A time when things were easier for everyone, and a period when Felix can indulge in such fantastical ideas without worrying about how feasible or not they were.

Dimitri seems to be fumbling with something, not seeming like he picked up on Felix's embarrassment. "I was wondering… if that still holds true."

Felix gapes at Dimitri for a moment, unsure of where this line of questioning is leading. "Does it matter now?"

He can't help the irritation that slips into his tone, still unable to make heads or tails of this interaction. Of course it does matter. It's the reason why he still fights this bloody, goddess-forsaken war. The sword is an excuse, the shield is his intent. The latter hangs heavy on his back, but he will carry it until the end of his days, if it means that the strength he has been building will protect everyone he cares about.

"It does."

Again, Dimitri seems to be fidgeting with something, unusually the one unable to keep eye contact.

"Then spit it out. Or did you bring me all the way up here just to make fun of me?"

Felix does not really think that is the case, but with Dimitri sometimes, he needed a push to admit to certain things.

"That is not it at all!" Dimitri says, aghast as he whirls on him, "Felix, I—"

While Felix expected the denial, he did not foresee the way Dimitri grabs hold of his hands. Or the way heat builds in Dimitri's gaze as he beholds Felix's undoubtedly dumbfounded expression. Felix feels something round and decidedly metal press against his palm—the object that Dimitri had been fiddling with this whole time.

Dimitri squeezes his hands, steadily looking on as color reddens his cheeks. "Will you—"

Holding back equal parts irritation and nervousness surging up his chest, Felix's answer is to close the distance between them, sealing Dimitri's lips with a kiss. Dimitri gasps, still against Felix's lips—perhaps just as surprised as Felix is with regard to this bold action he took. Not that it matters, considering Felix doesn't give Dimitri enough time to get used to the idea, pulling away not even ten seconds later.

"Save that question for when I return."

Felix keeps his frown when he meets Dimitri's stunned gaze, but he doesn't extract his hands from Dimitri's hold. And for once, he holds Dimitri's gaze instead of averting his eyes, never mind that his calm is sure to be lined with a level of tenderness and uncertainty that he is averse to displaying.

Dimitri swallows, his shock fading into worry as he reaffirms his hold on Felix's hands. "...Don't go."

Felix sighs as he lowers his gaze, falling upon the larger hands clasping his. "You know that isn't an option."

If Arianrhod falls, the Kingdom is sure to follow—and so is Dimitri. The lattermost is something Felix cannot and will not allow to happen as long as he draws breath.

"I know," Dimitri says, sighing, "however…"

He pauses, and after a moment's consideration, drops Felix's hands, presenting the object that had been digging into Felix's glove this whole time—a simple silver band.

"Could you… at least take this ring? As a... reminder."

The look Dimitri throws at Felix makes refusal a difficult concept, knowing that two hearts are going to be broken in the process if he did so.

"...Fine," Felix says in mild exasperation, but the stupidly dopey smile that Dimitri wears is enough to wear down the edges of his frown, which melts away into a blush as Dimitri takes his hand once more, tugging off his glove and sliding the band into his ring finger.

"It looks perfect on you."

A compliment which results into Felix pursing his lips as he feels his face redden some more.

"Stop exaggerating."

"I am only stating the truth," Dimitri says plainly, as if surprised Felix would say such a thing.

Felix bristles, but doesn't jerk away from Dimitri's touch, enchanted by the silver band around his finger. Tempting as it was to simply have let Dimitri finish his statement, there are a few reasons why Felix doesn't want to give an answer to that half-asked question. The war is far from over, and there are too many uncertainties in the horizon for that kind of commitment. The distraction it entails makes him uneasy as well—an unbefitting and frivolous use of time for their king and his right-hand.

Though truth be told, none of them compare to his fear of what may happen to his resolve should he say that inevitable "yes".

"...Stay still."

The melancholy in Dimitri's eyes transforms into curiosity as Felix speaks and meets his eyes, but otherwise, nods and complies. Closing the distance between them before he loses his nerve, Felix tugs Dimitri's collar down, glad that he is wearing a variant of his father's armor for the day. Otherwise, it'd be hell trying to do what he had in mind.

He bears down on that exposed skin, pressing his lips against them before sucking hard. Dimitri sucks in a breath as Felix puts more force into it, intent on leaving a mark that will last.

Pressing a kiss to the swelling bruise, Felix draws back, panting slightly as he observes his handiwork. _Good._ Looking at the size of that mark, he should be good for two weeks.

"I'll be back by the time that fades. So quit moping."

It's Dimitri's turn to stare at Felix for a good few moments before his expression of shock fades into a smile. To Felix's surprise, Dimitri wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him flush against his chest.

"I will count on it," Dimitri says, his other hand pressing against the small of his back as he holds him close.

Felix _hmphs_. "...I just couldn't stand the miserable look on your face, so don't get cocky."

Dimitri laughs. "I will not. I am just… _glad_ , Felix."

"...You're weird."

Another huff escapes him, but Felix leans into the embrace anyway, sighing softly as he rests his cheek against Dimitri's chest. In response, Dimitri buries his nose into Felix's hair, smiling against the crown of his head. Wrapped in this warmth, it is easy to entertain the uncharacteristic notion to simply stay here, far removed from the stress and worries of the frontlines. After all, it's always been Dimitri—the person he chased after the most, the person he's hated the most, and naturally, loves the most.

That is why he must resist that temptation. And instead, answer the call of his sword and prepare to be the shield that this side of the war needs.

_He can't let the Empire past Arianrhod. He simply can't._

With no shortage of regret, Felix breaks away from that embrace, his eyes wandering towards the entrance to the rooftop.

Felix exhales. "...We should go."

"I suppose," Dimitri says, mirroring that sigh. Turning his head back to Dimitri, Felix allows him to fit the glove back into his hand, tucking away the ring from sight as he lets his hand fall to the side. Without a further word, Dimitri begins to lead the way out of the tower. Felix follows closely behind, lifting his hand once more as he contemplates the ring beneath that glove.

Perhaps, having that promise to hold on to would be a good luck charm in the days to come, and would enable him to surpass the obstacles sure to stand in his way as he fights to defend what's most important to him. After all, Felix never made a habit of breaking his promises, and he certainly is not about to start doing that _now_.

* * *

Felix can no longer feel his sword.

As he surmised, the professor's sword rings true, meeting its mark with the ease of a hunter that's set his sights on his prey a long time ago. The first one it manages to pierce is his left thigh. The next is his sword arm. Then his chest.

His throat was supposed to follow, but the professor stops as he lays crumpled on the ground, hand extended with the same offer he made to him five years ago in the monastery.

Felix spits at his face.

He doesn't remember what happens afterwards or how much time passes between then and now. The next thing he knows, he's lying face up, back against a tarp as healers busied themselves around him.

 _But he knows._ Whatever white magic they are trying to pump into his veins isn't working, especially when they do nothing to alleviate the heaviness hanging over him as it threatens to consume him.

Unable to lift his right arm anymore, Felix settles for bringing his left hand to his lips amidst almost inaudible protests. With the last of his strength, he tugs away his glove with his teeth. The leather eventually gives, and with his dimming vision, he beholds the ring on his finger.

Unmindful of onlookers, Felix brings his hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against the cold metal as tears spring to his eyes in light of a promise broken. Amidst his fading senses, regret tastes sharply bitter, metallic as the iron flavor of blood. There's an answer he still wishes to give, yet the words themselves are struggling to form in his throat, leaden as the rest of his body.

"Di… mitri… I..."

_...love you._

"...'m sorry."

* * *

Rain starts to fall upon the Tailtean Plains, reflective of Dimitri's mood as he grips Areadbhar. It claims yet another life, but for each one it does, two more on his side seem to fall.

He cuts down Caspar, but Mercedes's screams in the distance fill his ears as he makes his way towards where Sylvain's contingent once was, the wet, muddy path littered with the corpses of both horse and man.

He expects Sylvain to live as he always does, but by the time Dimitri reaches him, the light is almost gone out of his eyes, shining briefly when Dimitri kneels next to him, cradling his cooling body in his arms.

"...I can finally go to where they are," Sylvain says with a smile as he reaches to cup Dimitri's cheek in his gauntleted hand. "Sorry, Your Majesty... I'm... going on ahead... I'll be waiting..."

"...Thank you, Sylvain."

Dimitri grasps Sylvain's hand as it starts to slip, holding it in place as he closes his eyes.

"I too... will definitely go to where you all are."

It's all that's left for him, the end Dimitri has been working towards since he heard what happened in Arianrhod.

Javelins of light annihilated the main building and north wall, sparing no one in those areas. There was nothing left to take home of the people caught up in the destruction, both enemy and ally alike.

 _You sent him to his death_ , Glenn whispers in his ear. _Just like me._

 _The least you can do is to avenge him_ , his father whispers in his other ear.

Dimitri presses his hand against his neck, letting the cold metal of his armor dig against the bruise that was barely there any more. He swallows as his chest swells with emotion, calling to mind the face of its giver long passed, no longer in the same plane as he.

If Felix can't return to him by the time this fades, then Dimitri will make that return trip himself.

* * *

"...You're here."

"Here", as it stands, is the dirt road leading to what Dimitri thinks to be the expanse that is the Fraldarius estate. The structure looming in the misty distance does look like it, and Dimitri recognizes that stump Felix is sitting on at least—a familiar enough sight back in the day, except Felix is now his 23-year-old self, frowning up at him. Not that Dimitri takes that frown seriously, quite used to it as a default. In fact, it's reassuring to be the first thing he sees in this unlikely landscape of what he thinks to be the afterlife, especially when the softness lining Felix's eyes tell him of another story.

That of relief, and what he would like to believe is a longing yet unanswered.

"I am indeed," Dimitri says, grinning faintly. "Is there a problem with that…?"

"No," Felix says, folding his arms and casting his gaze to the side, far away from Dimitri. "I was hoping… it would take you longer."

"Ah," Dimitri says, cheeks flushing as he casts his gaze downwards, a touch guilty. "My apologies."

It, perhaps, was not the smartest move to go after an enemy general like that, especially when the said general is one Byleth Eisner and more or less responsible for turning the tide of the war you're fighting to your disadvantage.

_"Professor… did you kill Felix?"_

_"He chose his side… and I have chosen mine."_

But when you have a burning question that needs an answer and the answer is an affirmative—or the closest one would ever get to such—it's a push to go against logic and follow the beat of one's heart.

Such was the case for Dimitri, whose heart surged with rage and grief when he charged forward with Areadbhar, intent on the vengeance his ghosts and his very own soul called out for. His dance with death, the sword that has taken away so many of his treasured companions—including his most precious—ends with a flourish that pierces through his chest. The curtain fell upon him just as it did for countless others, a finale that perhaps could have been executed better on Dimitri's end. Especially with his failure to accomplish his goal and the accompanying consequences sure to come with the aforementioned failure.

But his ghosts were silent then, as they are now in this space. Blissfully so.

And so is Felix, a small cause for concern, at least until he takes an unspoken cue to rise.

"...Sylvain told me what happened," Felix says, casting his gaze towards the estate in the horizon. "You… didn't have to go that far."

Dimitri blinks. Sylvain has no way of knowing what happened in his battle with Byleth, so did Felix guess at what he did? Perhaps, and it should stop surprising Dimitri, really. Felix has always known him the best, has always picked up on the nuances that everyone else tends to miss. From the barely suppressed beast that lurked beneath to the uncertain king-to-be, Felix was there to see all of it. And thankfully, accept all of it too. Dimitri's glad, at least, they've come to terms with that before the world decided it had no need of either right hand or king.

"I wanted to," Dimitri says, taking a step forward to take Felix's gloved hand in his, "you promised me an answer, after all."

"Which I wasn't able to give," Felix says, eyes downcast. It aches to see the guilt that spreads across Felix's eyes, but Dimitri tries to remedy it by squeezing Felix's hand and raising it to his lips, bending slightly to give the knuckles of his ring finger a kiss.

Dimitri grins as he sees Felix's now stunned expression. "We are here now, aren't we? So let me ask you again." Not letting go of Felix's hand, Dimitri drops to one knee, gaze solemn. "Felix, will you marry me?"

It's easy to worry about saying the wrong thing when it comes to Felix, especially when he continues to freeze up at those words. But if there's one thing Dimitri has learned in the past five years he has spent working closely with Felix, it takes time for him to respond to these things. And in the meantime, his body language is telling. Like the way Felix's fingers curl underneath his hand, taking it in a light hold. Or the way his eyes glaze over for a moment before he tears his eyes away from Dimitri, brushing the sleeve of his free arm across his eyes.

"...You already know the answer to that, you idiot."

Dimitri chuckles. "I would love to hear it from your lips, still."

And that, Felix does, grip firm as he pulls Dimitri up before drawing in to press his lips against Dimitri's, the heat of his affirmation upon them. Dimitri returns it with equal ardor, slow as he straightens up and cups Felix's cheeks in his hands. Heart ready to burst, Dimitri savors that touch in light of an oath fulfilled, a sweetness he could miraculously taste after all these fraught years.

Even when he breaks away, Dimitri's smile never leaves his face, an expression Felix shyly mirrors.

"Let's go," Felix says. "Everyone's waiting."

Crimson as their path might have been, they now have a golden opportunity to make up for everything they have lost. And in light of this silver lining they have finally grasped, Dimitri, with his hand in Felix's, lets this road ahead lead him into an azure eternity.


End file.
